An Unconventional Welcome
by Tibbins
Summary: A continuation of sorts to 13x04. Cas returns to the bunker, unsure what to expect. But it certainly wasn't this. Heavily implied Destiel.


**Hey guys,**

 **So 13x05 is happening RIGHT NOW but I can't watch it for another hour D:**

 **I know by the time anyone reads this they'll already have their Destiel reunion but I just wanted to write one (another one) before I saw the latest episode in case this idea went away over the course of said episode.**

 **Enjoy ^_^**

When Castiel walked into the bunker he wasn't sure what to expect. Shocked gasps perhaps, being doused with Holy Water was a definite possibility, someone calling his name, questions, relief and anger. Or perhaps the whole place would be empty; Sam, Dean, Mary and Jack off Hunting somewhere.

Dean was sat at the table in the main room when he entered, laptop in front of him, swigging from a beer bottle. He glanced up when the door closed behind Cas, then he looked back down, uninterested.

"Hello, Dean," Cas said tentatively, unsure if the Hunter had even noticed him. Dean didn't look up again. Castiel frowned, confused, "are you alright?"

Dean scratched his head and stared resolutely at his laptop screen. Cas walked down the stairs quickly and made his way to stand next to the Hunter.

"Dean?" He said, a little louder this time. Still, Dean did nothing. Castiel tried waving his hand in front of Dean's face, Dean barely blinked. "Can you not see me?"

Had the empty spat him back out as a ghost, able to see but not be seen? He pressed his hand to his own chest. He felt solid enough. He touched the table, his hand didn't sink through. He then reached forward and touched Dean's shoulder. The Hunter actually flinched away from him _._

"Dean?" Cas withdrew his hand, confused. "What did I do wrong? I'm sorry I couldn't come back sooner, I'm sorry I couldn't help you. Where's Sam? Is he okay? Did something happen after I…? What about Jack? Or Mary? Dammit Dean, _look at me!_ "

Castiel saw Dean's jaw clench tight under his stubble, watched him press his eyes tight together for a moment, taking a deep breath and then a long pull from his beer. Castiel knocked the bottle from his hands, it flew across the room and smashed into the wall. Glass, liquid and foam exploded with a crash. Dean looked from his now empty hand to the mess on the far wall. He cursed softly and pushed himself to his feet, just as Sam walked in, looking around for his brother.

"Dean, what the hell was that noise? Have you been-" He stopped, mouth gaping, eyes wide, staring straight at Castiel. "Cas?"

"Hello, Sam," Cas said, relieved.

Dean's head snapped around to his brother and followed his gaze.

"You mean, you-" he said, something in his eyes that Castiel couldn't quite determine, "you can _see_ him?"

Sam looked to his brother, confused, "Yeah, I mean, he's standing right there, Cas, how are you back? What happened?"

Cas just shook his head, lost. Then, Sam took two strides forward and embraced him with a laugh. Castiel returned the hug, still confused, but happy that at least _one_ of his friends could see him.

"Sam," he said when the younger Winchester pulled away, he glanced towards Dean, who was still staring at his brother, a strange mix of awe and pain that contorted his face into a grimace, "I think something's wrong. I don't think that Dean-"

He was cut off by a sudden pressure on his chest. He looked down to find Dean's hand, splayed out over his heart. Dean was staring at his own hand, at Castiel's chest, eyes wide and unblinking. Dean's hand clenched into a fist on his shirt, half under the lapel of his new coat. Both Castiel and Sam watched silently, this seemed to be a moment that was not to be interrupted. Castiel could see a struggle inside Dean, he could see that beautiful, broken soul of his fighting against something, though he didn't know what. Then, something broke and Dean collapsed into him. This wasn't the joyous, relieved hug he had been expecting; the one Sam had given him, with arms flung wide, welcoming home a friend thought lost. This was something else. Dean's arms slid up under his own, wrapping around his shoulder blades as his face buried itself into his neck. Castiel could only hold him, his own arms around Dean's back. He looked over to Sam, who shook his head, clearly as shocked as the angel to see Dean break down so completely. Dean wasn't sobbing as others who had adopted such a hold might have, but Castiel could feel the Hunter's hands trembling where they gripped his shoulders. And his legs were shaking so badly that he sunk to his knees, pulling Cas down with him. At some point, Sam left the room with a nod at Castiel, a promise in his eyes that they would talk later.

Castiel didn't know how long he held Dean like that, stroking soothing circles into his back, crooning soft noises, Enochian nursery rhymes, anything he could think of that might help. He didn't know what to do but now didn't seem like the time for questions. Now was a moment to be experienced, to be _felt_.

Eventually, Dean's fingers lessened their grip on his shirt and he pulled away. The sudden loss of Dean's closeness left a cold emptiness on Cas' chest. Scouring a hand down his face and through his hair, Dean sat back and cleared his throat. His eyes were dry, but there was a shadow in them that lingered.

"I – er," he said, voice hoarse and pulsing with false levity, "I'm glad you're back, man." He pushed himself to his feet quickly. "We should get Sam back in here, we've got a lot to catch you up on. I suppose you'll wanna meet Jack too, he's around here somewhere, stays in his room mostly though. I-"

"Dean," Castiel said, following him to his feet and grabbing his forearm, "why did you pretend not to see me?"

That wasn't the question he wanted to ask, of course. He wanted to ask about the intensity of that embrace, he wanted to ask what was wrong, what was so wrong with the world that Dean, the master of internalisation and pretending not to care had lost his composure like that? But he doubted very much that Dean would tell him.

As it was, Dean looked uncomfortable. He rubbed the back of his neck and rolled it like it was stiff, avoiding his eyes.

"Er – Well –" he began, "I guess you could say that this isn't the first time I've seen you since you've been… away." He coughed, embarrassed. "It's nothing really, just a 'manifestation of my guilt' or whatever. It got... annoying so I learned to ignore it. It doesn't matter. I – er – I'm sorry your welcome home wasn't very… welcoming."

Castiel waited patiently until Dean finally met his eyes. Then, he smiled, pushing down his concern, he decided he would tackle that particular issue another day.

"It was perfect," he said.

 **So there you go. It's short and non-related to my other recent fics (unless you really squint I guess) but I just really liked the idea of Dean just NOT reacting at all, 'cause it wouldn't be the first time Dean saw images of his angel when he shouldn't have been there. Plus it was kinda fun to write.**

 **Wish me luck for the episode! I'm so excited and nervous you guys! I daresay you can probably expect another continuation fic this week, (though of course it will depend on what the episode actually delivers.)**

 **As always, all feedback is welcome and appreciated, I love, love, love hearing from you guys.**

 **Love Tibbins xx**


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